


Living

by oninofukuchou (OrderOfRevan)



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Depression, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hamamura Mikoto - Freeform, PTSD, suggestive content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:09:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23622100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OrderOfRevan/pseuds/oninofukuchou
Summary: Hijikata remembers what it's like to want to live.
Relationships: Hijikata Toshizou/Original Female Characters
Kudos: 6





	Living

**Author's Note:**

> I might do an explicit rated sequel to this one. 
> 
> I need to get the ol ability to write nsfw works back, anyway. 
> 
> We'll see.

He hated that they were wasting time on useless shit like parties when he knew that the end was coming more quickly. Each passing second of winter left them closer to the thaw and their inevitable demise at the hand of the new Imperial Army.

Otori-san would say that was exactly why they needed the levity, the chance to hope and believe in a possible future, and he could respect that line of thinking to an extent… But he could never bring himself to participate. He would fight until the bitter end, until his last, bloody breath, but he would not pretend like this was anything less than the most dire situation any of them would ever face in their lives. 

It did their deaths a disservice, in his opinion. 

Shifting uncomfortably in his chair, he tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment before letting his eyes drift close. Taking Hakodate and overtaking the Matsumae had been one hell of a tall order, but he’d still managed to help them do it… And that process had been so hectic he hadn’t really had a chance to think about much else. 

But now he was an elected official in the way of the Americans and most of his duties were administrative ones, the kinds of shit he’d always done for the Shinsengumi but on a larger scale. Basically a glorified quartermaster and appointed solver of disputes between soldiers in the employ of the Republic's army. 

That left him plenty of time to think.

And think he did, his mind sometimes getting away from him as the sand in his clock started to run out. It played cruel tricks, playing Kondou-san’s voice in his head, making Souji’s cough echo down a street in Hakodate proper, causing Saito’s shadow to appear at the end of a hallway… Or the whispers of Heisuke and Sanan at night and the dreams he had about all the horrible ways Yukimura, Sano, and Shinpachi could have died. 

But the worst of it was when he hallucinated Hamamura. 

He could ignore it well enough during the day, but the later it got the more he was prone to seeing her, hearing her, sometimes even catching whiffs of her particular smell that he’d grown so used to when they were sharing a room at the inn. All that he could have endured, but when the Bloodlust hit him, when pain made his ever nerve light up with searing sensation and all his muscles seized and spasmed, leaving him a convulsing, panting, sweating mess curled up on his office floor… 

He could almost feel her touch against his fevered skin and he longed for her so much that he couldn't deny the weight of her in his heart. Hijikata didn’t even want her there for her blood, he just wanted her to hold him the way she did every time he couldn’t bare shit -- life -- any longer, stroke his hair, and promise to never leave him. 

When he recovered, he would immediately regret it, would tell himself he’d done the right thing again and again, but more often lately he knew he’d been wrong to do it. 

Everything was so much harder without her. 

Every second she was gone was another that dragged on just because he missed her. 

But that thought alone also made him grateful that she wasn’t here, because he couldn’t stand for her to see him like this. 

Ultimately, he knew he could never truly be what she needed him to be. 

The sound of a knock on the door drew his attention, his eyes narrowing as he snapped his head towards the damn contraption. Was it Otori-san again? Or had he sent one of the boys to haunt Hijikata in an attempt to tempt him out with liquor or food? 

“I already told you,” he said, seizing his brush from where he’d placed it, “I’m not coming down. Now’s not the time for a party.” 

The door swung open with a bang so loud that it made him jump in surprise, though he quickly felt foolish for doing so… And then he felt annoyed, wondering who the hell could possibly be so brazen. Opening his mouth to say something, his jaw fell open and his heart stopped beating and decided it would try to escape his body through the moment he saw who haunted his threshold. 

Before he could say anything, before he could even stand to ask her what the fuck she was doing there, she stomped over to him, seized him by his lapel with a single hand, and pulled him to his feet. The sound of his chair against the wooden floor planks was deafening, but not as deafening as the ringing of his ears the moment her fist made contact with the side of his face, the impact hard enough that he knew he was going to have a bruise. 

There was no way in hell she was a hallucination. 

Reaching out to steady them both his hands seized her shoulders, jaw stinging, his vision a bit blurred… And though it wasn’t long until it cleared, it still took him a moment to realize she was crying, tears openly streaming down her face as she looked up at him. Her expression was hurt, deeply hurt, but there was also relief there and that same, familiar look deep in her eyes that he’d come to recognize as love. 

Being this close after so long made his chest hurt even more than it already did, and guilt made him swallow past the lump in his throat. There was nothing he could say, nothing at all, except… 

“I probably deserved that.” 

“Probably?” she asked incredulously, seizing him by the lapels again to shake him. “Probably!? Hijikata, you abandoned me! In spite of everything I’d ever said to you about wanting to follow you, about having nowhere I’d rather be, you up and fucked off to Ezo!” 

Her beautiful face was twisted in rage, but in spite of that he was most bothered by her tears, wanting nothing more than to wipe them away. But this was not the time for that -- Not now, not when words were coming out of her like an artillery shell out of a canon, and her knuckles were white with strain, stark against the black of his jacket. 

“What do you think it was like, waking up to find you gone? How do you think I felt --” she cut herself up, pulling him in closer so they were practically nose to nose. “No, you should know! Didn’t Kondou order you to leave him behind, Hijikata? Don’t you know better than anyone what it’s like to be forced to walk away from someone you care for so deeply?” 

If what she had been saying before was an artillery shell, this was like a bullet straight to the heart. 

It hurt him more than her punch had by far, taking the words from between his lips and his breath with them. Suddenly he was back in Nagareyama, looking into Kondou-san’s face, shaking with fury and despair as he met those familiar, warm eyes and saw nothing but the resolution to die. 

In that moment, he would have done anything to wish that army away, to give the person most important to him his fighting spirit back… But no amount of screaming could do any good. Isami had already decided what was best for him, what the best course of action would be, and nothing Hijikata could have done would have changed his mind. 

All he could do was watch Kat-chan walk away to his death and know that he had failed to make enough of a difference to convince him to stay and live. 

Slowly, he reached up and covered her hands with his own, hands still cold from being outside. He grasped them tightly, thinking for a moment about what he could possibly say to her, to explain to her that he hadn’t realized -- that he’d been so blinded by grief and -- 

And he just wanted her to live. 

He could do this only because he knew she was going to live. 

But once again, she spoke before he could. 

“You always do this, Hijikata,” her voice had lost some of its anger; instead it sounded sad, tired, but pleading above all else. “You take every burden in the world upon your shoulders and never share it with anyone, never take into account their feelings. What do you think that does to the rest of us who have to watch you suffer? What do you think it did to Kondou-san? To me?” 

Suffer…?

He’d just been trying to protect them, all this time. 

Hijikata had only taken on those things because he could handle them and he didn’t want anyone to have to carry more than they needed to. If he could see to a need, he felt it was his duty to see to it and do it without a single complaint. 

It had never occurred to him that watching him do that would make anyone suffer… 

And yet seeing her now, feeling caught in the desperation of her eyes and her voice, the plea that he finally understand everything she had been trying to tell him … She just wanted to help him, and by leaving her - by abandoning her - he’d denied her the very thing she wanted most. He… 

“Quit making my decisions for me,” Mikoto said. “I want to stay with you, Hijikata. You can’t make me go back. There’s … There’s no home for me if you’re not there.” 

Unable to stop himself, he dropped her hands to pull her against his chest, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her scent. There was nothing else he could think to do, no other way he could think to convey how sorry he was, that he hadn’t … He hadn’t realized… 

“Once you were gone,” Hijikata started, not entirely sure what he wanted to say or even how he was going to say it, just knowing by instinct that he could not leave her hurting this way, “I realized some things. You…” 

He let out a breath and brushed his fingers through the loose strands of his hair at the back of her neck, feeling her tears soak into his button-up undershirt, “you make things easier for me to deal with. Everything… Life. I … Guess when I think about it, there’s no one who has seen me at my lowest points but you, and yet I don’t regret any of it.” 

How could he? 

Mikoto had been there with him through it all. 

She had seen him when he nearly died and nursed him back to health, held his hands when Sanan and Heisuke had disintegrated to dust in his arms. She’d stood with him on that bloodstained hill and held him as he choked back tears for Kondou and had given him the strength to be able to finally tell Souji that he was wrong when she’d tried to object on his behalf. Hell, she’d been there to witness him turning into a Fury and had given her blood to him again and again, just to keep him stable. 

But she was what had helped him through it. 

Before he felt nothing but shame, but without her… Would anyone have tried to cross that distance he’d put between himself and everyone else? Would anyone have tried to drag him to a place where he could recover?

Or would he have done what he always did, and just … endure it? 

It wasn’t really a question, in the end. 

“Stay with me,” he told her. “I want you here, Mikoto, so stay with me.” 

He felt the tension leave her shoulders, and she cast her arms around him, clinging back as if he were the only thing keeping her afloat on a stormy ocean. Sob after sob choked from her throat and all he could do was hold her, but… 

But right now, this was something he could afford to do. 

There was no more need for him to yell and scream, to drive people away. Everyone who had come this far - especially her - was a true warrior, and he could rest easy knowing that they would keep the values of the Shinsengumi alive. 

Hijikata could afford to be this way with her, even if just for now, at the end of the world and of all things. 

* * *

She leaned over him, pushing his papers out of the way to place a cup of team and a small plate of food in front of him, her brows furrowed deeply as she met his gaze. He’d already grown used to that scolding expression over the past few weeks, and though he could sense she didn’t quite trust he wouldn’t force her to leave yet, she had at least stopped looking at him like he would disappear when she thought he wasn’t looking. 

“It’s a note from Enomoto-san,” Hijikata said, though he already knew that wouldn’t be a good enough of an excuse for her. 

“Enomoto-san is stuck here in the frozen north just like the rest of us,” she said in reply, “and he can wait until you eat. I will get color back into your face, Hijikata, whether you want to fight me on it or not.” 

For a moment he just stared at her, then he shook his head. 

She’d always been like this, but recently he noticed she was less reserved about speaking her mind. Hamamura never told him off outright in front of anyone else (except for maybe Shimada), but when it was just the two of them she was completely honest with him in a way that only his closest family members had ever been … And Kondou-san, at one point, before they’d started keeping shit from one another. 

Not that he really remembered what that was, he just knew that it had happened and that it had been what had really fucked the two of them over in the end. 

Suddenly, he had less of an appetite. 

Sighing, he at least took a drink of the tea, turning his head to find that Hamamura was already looking at him. There was a furrow in her brow, the kind that he recognized she only wore when she was really worried about him … And though he’d seen it before, it was only now that he really noticed just how often it was on her face. 

Geez.

He really gave her hell, didn’t he?

“I’ll eat,” he said, offering her a small smile, “especially if you made it. Don’t know if I’ve said it before, but you’re a damn good cook.” 

She smiled at him and a bit of the tension seemed to ease from between her shoulders, the arms she’d crossed over her chest falling back to her side, “you can’t get me to stop worrying about you by sweet-talking me… Though if you mean it, I’ll take more compliments.” 

“I can think of plenty of ways to sing your praises,” he chuckled, shaking his head slowly before picking up the chopsticks. “I’d write a poem about it, but you still have my book.” 

Hamamura laughed at him, then turned her attention to the fire that kept the room warm, reaching out to move a log that was suffocating the well-tended flames. 

“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, shaking her head. 

He didn’t argue with her, forcing himself to eat and finding that he was more hungry than he’d initially thought. She really was a damn good cook, which he’d known for awhile now, and found he was grateful she was back for this reason … Among others. 

Truthfully, it was easier to be in higher spirits with her around. 

Hamamura was easy to talk to and she always had been. 

She didn’t mind when he was blunt, and she always had something interesting or observant to say, adding to the conversation. At the same time, she was laid back enough that she could still take jokes and was able to keep up with the idiocy of some of the younger guys, rolling with the punches. There was never a time he worried she’d be manipulated or pushed around by other people because she was good hearted but tough, having seen enough shit to know how to hold her own. 

Just like everyone else, she had her issues but… 

They were a good match.

He never really had to ask her for shit anymore. She just seemed to know what he needed and gave it to him, more often than not. 

“You know,” he said between bites, “if you wanted to bring your own shit to work on in here you can. There’s no way you’re actually done writing that book, right? So why not take some time now? It’ll be awhile before it thaws enough for the fighting to start anyway.” 

She froze, then looked over her shoulder before glancing down and smiling, “okay. If you’re fine with it… I guess… I don’t know. It’s something you never would have considered letting me do before.”

It stung to admit it, but she was right. 

He’d have been fine with it during any of their numerous private conversations, but she was right. There were a lot of things he denied the people he cared about most to push the Shinsengumi as far as it could go, and though he didn’t exactly regret it … It was like he’d told her once. 

There were always going to be things you had to mourn in the pursuit of what mattered most. 

“Things are different now,” he said, not sure what else to say. 

He could feel her looking at him but decided it was best to focus on what he was eating instead of meeting her eyes. There was a lot he’d become okay with - this was the end, after all - but he couldn’t take it too far because a part of him still hoped she’d come to her senses and leave before he died. 

Hijikata didn’t want her to follow him, but he wouldn’t ask her to leave, either. 

He’d only ask her if she was sure she wanted to stay. 

“They are,” she finally agreed. “You’ve changed. You’re quieter now, softer,” he heard her stand up and walk back over to him, her steps making the wooden floorboard creak. “You’re sadder. I look at you and I see someone who’s… Not given up. It’s not like Kondou-san was, or Souji, or…”

She clicked her tongue, coming to a stop at the window to his left that looked out onto the snow covered courtyard below. In the silence he could practically hear her thoughts meandering between them as she gathered her words. 

He continued to count the grains of rice sitting on the chopsticks that he’d brought halfway to his mouth. 

“You’ve decided what you’re going to do,” she said at last, her voice almost a whisper, “you’ve decided you’re going to end here. I respect that… I’ll write about that, I just wonder if…” 

She trailed off and he finally looked up at her, seeing her eyes only through her reflection in the glass, sad and bright. Was he forcing her to mourn him again, the way he’d been forced to mourn Kondou-san before he’d even left this world? 

Could it really be the same thing?

But no… Death here was… 

It was inevitable. 

“What do you wonder?” Hijikata asked her at last, unable to shake the sensation that hearing her out now was important.

Hamamura looked back over her shoulder at him, pulling the pin she’d given him out of her hair to hold it, tracing the shapes of the hollyhock as if searching for comfort. For a while she remained like that, simply looking at him, seemingly drinking in the silence between them. 

Then she smiled in a way that was as fragile as late-winter ice and spoke, “I wonder if the end of the Shinsengumi really has to be the end of Hijikata Toshizou, or if there might be more for him out there.” 

More…?

The word made something inside of him tremble with hope ... 

But it paled in comparison to the burden of the banner he still had a responsibility to fly, and the weight of the hopes his friends and comrades had placed upon him. 

What more could he possibly want for himself when they had given the breath from their lungs to see him stand atop this hill? And what could exist for a samurai in the new world where men like him were no longer needed?

He looked at Hamamura and wondered at the answer. 

* * *

Spring had come, and with it there came war. 

That night was probably the last peaceful night they’d spend, just the two of them, before the Imperial Army marched into Hakodate. They didn’t stand any real chance, he knew that, and it’s not like he’d see the front lines at places like Benten, but… In a battle like this, there’s no way he wouldn’t end up seeing active combat. 

She’d see it, too. 

When they’d sent Tetsunosuke away to his family with a few momentos he’d almost been tempted to convince her to leave, but he’d held his tongue at the last moment. Hijikata had promised he wouldn’t ask her to go again, but as they waited out the night, as he wrote a last few orders and made a few more fortifications before tucking in for the night … All he could think about was the possibility that this would be the end, that he couldn’t stand to see her die. 

That he wanted to protect her. 

“You’ve been sighing and making disgusted noises for the last half hour,” she said to him, covering up his papers with her hand, which forced his eyes to her face; it looked soft in the glow of the kerosene lamp on his desk. “I think it’s time that you put away the work. Hijikata. There’s only so much you can do.” 

She thought this was about work? 

His brows furrowed and his mouth twitched, not sure whether it wanted to frown or smile, before he finally set down his brush and sighed. His head hit the back of his chair as he stared at the ceiling, running both of his hands over his face as his thoughts ran away with him; his hands smelled like ink, just like they always did nowadays. 

“You’re sure?” he asked, finally able to bring himself to make his mouth form the words. “There’s still time to cut and run if you’ve changed your mind. You … You could change into women’s clothes and slip off to one of the outlying rural communities and then catch a boat -”

“Hijikata.” 

The word was firm and was accompanied by her strong hands grasping his wrists to force him to look at her, bringing them closer than they’d been in awhile. He could see her every movement, was suddenly captivated by the way shadow and light played across her features and turned the already warm depths of her eyes even softer. 

She looked so beautiful.

Had she ever looked that beautiful before?

Her hand touched the side of his face, turning his head so that they were nearly nose to nose, and didn’t leave his jaw. It stayed there, holding him in place along with those warm, amber eyes of hers that were no longer filled with anger or deep hurt but were tinged with sadness as much as that deep regard… The love… Her love … 

For  _ him.  _

“You’re saying that because you’re afraid,” she told him in an even voice. “You’re afraid that I’ll die, and I understand that because I’m afraid you’ll die the moment I leave your side, but… It’s my life to risk. Let me do with it what I think is most worthwhile.”

Her words hit him hard, and for the first time he felt he truly understood what he had denied her the day he’d walked away and boarded a ship to Ezo. Hamamura - Mikoto - had given up so much for him over the years, but she had done it for the same reason he’d sacrificed for Kondou-san and his friends and the Shinsengumi. 

It was because she believed in him.

Mikoto believed he was worthwhile, and she… 

She wanted him to live. 

All this time, she had been asking him to live, to believe that she was worthwhile, too. 

And here he was, being a fucking idiot, so wrapped up in his own grief and the idea that there was no him without the Shinsengumi that he’d forgotten that he’d been a person before it, too. He could find other things to live for, other things he thought were worthwhile, and he… 

He really did … 

Taking a breath, he was unsurprised when it game out shaky, reaching up to cover her hand. Hijikata held it there for a moment, closing his eyes and leaning into her touch, relishing the warmth and stability of it as something new and frightening filled him, something that was also familiar… This thing he had forgotten, something stronger than hope, more powerful than happiness. 

He stood, still holding her hand before taking the other, letting the sensation fill him as it bridged the gaps between parts of him he hadn’t even realized were fragmented. She… She was making him whole again, giving him something that he hadn’t even realized he’d lost until now, by granting him something as simple as the motivation to fight.

“I…” he started, cutting himself off, not sure what to say or how to say it but knowing for certain that he had to articulate it somehow. 

Closing his eyes, he laughed shakily and then steeled himself and tried again, looking into her face and refusing to look away. 

“Mikoto, I want to protect you, more than anything. I …” Hijikata bit back any last bit of hesitance and forced himself to say the words as much as he could. “I think I’m probably in love with you.” 

Her eyes went wide and her jaw slack, though only for a single moment. 

Before he could even breathe or think anything else, she had torn her hands from him to grasp his face and was kissing him in between her laughter. It was all he could do to keep up with her, looping an arm around her waist to pull her close while the other hand went to the back of her neck to help him adjust their positions and kiss her back. 

He’d wanted this for so long now. 

She felt right in his arms, her body warm and solid but still soft. 

Her lips were yielding and eager, and he shivered when her tongue flicked out to deepen their kiss, bringing the two of them closer than he ever thought they would be. 

But he wanted this. 

He wanted her -- 

Her companionship. 

Her smile. 

_ Her. _

And this is how he would tell her that, he thought as he turned them and lifted her to set her on the desk. Placing his hands on either side of her, he leaned forward and let her hold him in place with the hands that were still on his face, tilting his head to deepen the kiss a second time. Her eyes closed and she sighed into his mouth, their tongues brushing without going too deep.

Not once did her hands leave his face, brushing across his cheeks or swiping strands of his hair behind his ear. It made him unable to keep his hands pressed to the surface of the desk, resting his palms against the swell of her hips instead, holding her as they explored one another’s mouths. 

They stayed that way for a moment, coming apart and together so many times that he lost count, before one of them finally managed to pull away long enough to speak.

“I want to live,” he said, his chest swelling again. “I want to live … With you.” 

Mikoto’s expression was soft and tears had started to fall from her eyes, leaving him to wipe them away with his fingertips. Unable to stop himself, he kissed her again and found himself languishing in the feeling of her hands as they trailed down his neck and across his shoulders. 

“Say it again,” she said between kisses, “tell me you want to live.” 

“I want to live,” he repeated, the words the lightest he’d committed to in a long time.

“Good,” Mikoto’s tears still flowed and turned their kisses salty, but he hardly minded when she let him push her further back and lie her on the desk. “I’m so happy… I love you. I love you so much.” 

This time, he was the one to shut her up with a kiss, brushing his fingers over the hollyhock pin she always wore in her hair. He liked it -- Showed she was his, and that she had been for a long time, and hopefully she’d wear it for a long time to come, for years and years, if his body gave him that much.

No, he’d make sure it did. 

He pulled away, looking down at her with a smile on his face, tracing the shape of her jaw with his fingertips. For the first time in a long time, his heart felt light… It’d probably been since Kyoto that he’d felt this full of anything other than grim resignation, since he’d been this excited about something. 

“You’d better prepare yourself,” he said, leaning down to whisper the words in her ear, “because I don’t plan to let you go. There’s no changing your mind now. You’re stuck with me.” 

Mikoto only laughed and turned her head to kiss him again.


End file.
